The Billionaire and the Con Artist: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Girls Series Book 1) Read Free Page B

dumbest smile on my face, wrapped only in a towel with damp hair cascading down my shoulders, I suddenly hear a knock on the door of the suite.
    Practiced caution leads me to double check who’s there, and when I look through the peephole, it’s not some guy in a penguin suit with my lobster and shrimp and chocolate cake.
    The agitated dude standing there is quite possibly the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.
    He’s tall with chiseled features and flashing green eyes, and a mouth hanging open a bit I’d love to cover with mine.
    Instinct takes over, and though this hottie doesn’t look the least bit approachable in his grumpy state, unless he’s gay, I can distract him enough for my purposes.
    He doesn’t look like he’s with law enforcement, so it’s time to turn that sexy frown upside down. Opportunity is literally knocking.
    As far as I’m concerned, the angry hottie’s another surprise birthday gift.
    Thank you, universe!
    Maybe my mom wasn’t a complete loon about that visualization stuff.
    I make sure I look as alluring as possible—not hard considering my attire or lack thereof—then I open the door with my most disarming, innocently seductive look.

Chapter 3
Axel
    T he party always starts on the plane.
    Since it’s a private aircraft, there are no rules to stick to save the ones I make, and the main rule is to have fun. To sit back, relax, and get pampered.
    The food is top notch, the seating, plentiful and comfortable, some with massage settings, and the gorgeous stewardesses are available to take care of all my needs and the needs of those I’m traveling with.
    Instead of flying to Singapore or Monte Carlo, we’re headed to Vegas, one of our more casual playgrounds, the flight there and back on my dime.
    I know it’s kind of petty, but a wave of satisfaction washes over me again as I watch the guys and glance around the interior of my jet.
    Here we are, in a spacious cabin with far more couches and lounge chairs than we need, large flat screen TVs playing images we never bother to watch, top alcohol and gorgeous willing girls within easy reach.
    I can’t help thinking, I made this possible .
    This trip to Vegas isn’t for any special occasion—I got bored and decided to bring some friends with me for a three-day weekend of fun.
    Well, ‘friends’ is a pretty generous term—of the three other guys here, I can only call one a friend—my best friend, Nate, whom I’ve known since junior high.
    Man, I used to envy Nate—he had a hefty allowance, parents who obviously loved each other, and his college funds were all sorted out before he was born, with a trust fund to boot.
    He’s one of those kids who got access to a stable of European sports cars for his sixteenth birthday.
    His family had a large house, a pool, lots of yard.
    Nate always had a shitload of toys and games, the latest of everything, stuff I could only dream of.
    I used to want to be him for years. Young me was able to sense the weight of all the advantages he had as a result of being so rich.
    Not only was he rich, but he was good-looking and had the girls eating out of his hands.
    I’m not exactly hideous myself, but there’s a different way chicks treat you once they know you’re loaded.
    They came after me as a temporary thrill, but chicks flocked to Nate, trying to lock him down and get a piece of that pie so that at any given time, he had his pick who to sleep with.
    Now I know firsthand what that feels like; in fact, my access is even greater.
    Nate’s still loaded, but there are some women who wouldn’t touch him—those with money themselves looking for guys with even more.
    They’re the ones I get that Nate doesn’t.
    Nate is chatting with the newest members of our posse—Scott, a tow-headed Aussie billionaire I met at some celebrity party, and Peter, whom I recently met at another exclusive party he managed to crash.
    Pete’s a software engineer, but because of his dark-skinned good looks and muscular